Usher, Chris Brown Throw Joint Concert, Internet Collectively Decides Who’s the Lesser Evil
ATLANTA — In a move that has music fans everywhere asking “Wait, is this 2004 or a fever dream?” Usher Raymond and Chris Brown announced a co-headlining tour this week, presumably because the universe ran out of actual good ideas and decided to just mash up two of R&B’s most problematic faves into a single, confusing nostalgia bomb. The tour, cheekily titled “The Past, Present, and Future: A Conversation We’re Not Ready For,” promises to be the ultimate test of your moral compass and your ability to separate a banger from a background check.
Let’s get the obvious out of the way: This is a Venn diagram where one circle is “incredible vocal talent and choreography” and the other is “allegations of domestic violence, sexual assault, and general public douchebaggery.” And right in the middle? A sold-out arena of people who are currently trying to figure out if they can sing along to “Yeah!” without feeling like they just endorsed a restraining order.
Usher, for those of you who just crawled out from under a rock after 2019, has been dealing with a steady drip of allegations that would make a lesser man’s career evaporate. We’re talking about a bunch of civil lawsuits claiming he knowingly exposed partners to herpes, a whole documentary that made him look like a human red flag factory, and a general vibe of “I’m a multi-millionaire who peaked in 2004 and I’m not going to apologize for any of it.” His response to all of this has been the PR equivalent of a shrug emoji and a new album announcement. Classic.
Then you have Chris Brown. Oh, Chris. The guy who turned “beat it” into a career-defining moment, and not in the Michael Jackson way. He’s the poster child for “I can do whatever I want because I can dance like a robot on meth and sing about how much I love women while simultaneously making them terrified.” The man has a Wikipedia page that reads like a police blotter. He’s been banned from multiple countries. He once threw a chair at a window because someone asked about Rihanna. And yet, he still has a platinum-selling career and a fanbase that will defend him to the death, usually with the argument “But he was a kid when that happened!” as if turning 30 absolves you of throwing a phone at a woman’s face in a nightclub.
So now, these two titans of toxicity are teaming up. The internet, predictably, has had a collective aneurysm. The discourse is a beautiful dumpster fire of people trying to justify their ticket purchases. “Look, I know they’re both messy,” one user on X (formerly Twitter) wrote, “but I need to hear ‘Confessions Part II’ live. It’s a spiritual experience. I’ll just close my eyes during the parts where I remember he’s a walking HR violation.” Another user countered: “This isn’t a concert, it’s a lineup of suspects for a very specific type of crime. I’d rather watch a live feed of my own colonoscopy than give these two a dime.”
The irony is so thick you could spread it on a biscuit. Usher and Chris Brown have spent the last decade trying to rebrand as “mature artists.” Usher did a Vegas residency that was basically a masterclass in “look how charming I am, ignore the lawsuits.” Chris Brown has been dropping diss tracks and getting into beefs with everyone from Soulja Boy to the concept of accountability. Their joint tour is the musical equivalent of a guy who’s on his third DUI asking a guy who just crashed a stolen car to be his designated driver.
And let’s talk about the setlist for a second. Are they going to play Chris Brown’s “Fine China”? Sure, classic banger. But are they also going to play “Deuces”? Because that song is literally about telling a woman to get lost, and it feels… on the nose. Are they going to do a medley of “U Got It Bad” and “With You”? That’s just asking for a montage of their mugshots. The whole thing feels like a SNL sketch that went too far.
The real question is: who is the target audience for this? It’s not Gen Z, who are too busy being terminally online and cancelling people for using the wrong emoji. It’s not boomers, who are still trying to figure out what a TikTok is. No, this is for the Millennials and Gen X-ers who are in their “I’m tired of being a good person, I just want to hear ‘My Way’ and feel something” era. These are the people who will buy the $400 VIP package that comes with a commemorative lanyard and a vague sense of guilt.
The marketing team for this tour must be working overtime. The press release probably said something like “Two icons of R&B unite for a night of unforgettable music and a masterclass in selective memory.” They’re banking on the fact that people are so starved for live entertainment and so willing to compartmentalize that they’ll pay top dollar to watch two men who have never faced real consequences for their actions perform songs about love and heartbreak.
Look, I’m not here to tell you what to do with your money. If you want to go see Usher and Chris Brown, go ahead. You do you. But maybe, just maybe, while you’re vibing to “Run It!” and “Burn,” you could take a moment to reflect on the fact that you’re essentially funding a therapy session for two men who need a lot more than a microphone and a stage. Or, you know, you could just watch the concert on YouTube and save yourself the therapy bill.
In the end, this tour is a perfect metaphor for the music industry in 2024: a chaotic, morally bankrupt, yet strangely catchy mess that you can’t look away from. It’s the musical equivalent of a train wreck, but the train is made of platinum records and
Final Thoughts
After watching the Usher and Chris Brown joint show, it’s clear that the evening was as much a testament to generational legacy as it was to raw talent—Usher’s seasoned showmanship grounding the stage while Brown’s kinetic energy often threatened to overshoot the mark. Yet, for all the undeniable vocal firepower and choreographic precision, the shadow of Brown’s troubled past lingered in the air, making it impossible to separate the performance from the moral calculus the audience must quietly navigate. In the end, it was a masterclass in R&B showmanship that left you humming the hits, but also wondering if the industry’s willingness to compartmentalize charisma from character has become an art form in itself.